


The Bishop

by AmberBrown



Series: Earning Their Keep [27]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-05 18:33:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16816147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberBrown/pseuds/AmberBrown
Summary: A visiting Bishop who remembers Aramis as a child brings problems for the Musketeer and his lover.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GingietheSnap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingietheSnap/gifts).



> This is based on a prompt I received from GingietheSnap.
> 
> If you have not read the rest of the serious all you need to know is that Aramis and d’Artagnan are in an established relationship. I’ll note any other stories from my series when they are mentioned in case you want to read them - I won’t mind.

Prologue

Bishop Delacroix pushed the door to his room open, he stepped inside. The soldier was there. He was actually a little surprised. When he had confronted the man the previous day he had not expected him to react as he had done. It was the same as it had been all those years before.

And now the soldier was stood in his rooms clutching the document he had been asked to obtain. 

Bishop Delacroix smiled to himself. He could still control the man the boy had become. And now he could gain so much more than he had before...although he wondered as he looked the man up and down if he might still use the soldier in other ways.

Chapter One

_Two days earlier… ___

__Guard duty was dull at the best of times, thought Porthos, but guard duty where they were effectively on show and therefore likely to be observed was the worst thing imaginable. Porthos longed for a bloody battle over standing at attention in the throne room at the Palace watching the Cardinal fawning over a visiting Bishop._ _

__The King looked a little bored as well. But he at least would not be dressed down for not paying attention._ _

__The small mercy that had been given to Porthos, probably not purposefully, was that he was stood next to d’Artagnan. He had spent the best part of an hour gradually edging closer so that he could talk to the young Musketeer. He talked quietly, under his breath. D’Artagnan was so very easy to make laugh. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen d’Artagnan begin to struggle. More than once his lips had twitched. He had struggled to remain still and was close to reacting to Porthos’ continued torment._ _

__The small amusement was cut short by Athos’ glare. Their leader gave him one of the looks that told him he was going to be paying for his mischief later. Porthos did not mind. He knew Athos was just as bored._ _

__Looking beyond his two friends he focused on Aramis, stood on the other side of Athos. Aramis was watching the Cardinal and the visiting Bishop carefully. Porthos wondered if Aramis was struggling to cope with being in the same room as the Cardinal. The man had been responsible for probably one of the most horrific things to happen to Aramis. His arrest and interrogation less than a year ago were still fresh in all their minds. Treville had kept Aramis away from the Palace for several months but as one of his best men, it would have been noticed if Aramis had been missing for the current meeting._ _

__More than once the Cardinal had glanced over at Aramis. But Aramis was not looking at the Cardinal, he was looking at the Bishop. Porthos wondered why?_ _

__Porthos looked back towards the men who were talking on the other side of the room. The King rose from his chair and began to wander about the room. The Cardinal and the Bishop fell into step with him and continued their quiet conversation. Porthos could not hear what they were talking about. Porthos did not care. He just wished the interminable meeting would end so that they could leave._ _

__‘Aramis?’_ _

__Porthos glanced across to see Athos nudge their friend, who took a moment to react._ _

__‘Sorry,’ replied Aramis quietly, ‘it’s just, I’m sure I recognise the Bishop...but I can’t remember where from.’_ _

__‘There are a lot of clergy,’ replied Athos, keeping his eyes on the men across the room. ‘You might have met him at some point over the years.’_ _

__Aramis did not look convinced, ‘I know, I wish I could remember though.’_ _

__Porthos wondered why it bothered his friend so much, Aramis had known many men of the cloth, it was not surprising that he might not be able to place each one. Aramis continued to watch the Bishop carefully, Porthos could tell he was wracking his brain trying to remember the man across the room. Glancing at d’Artagnan, Porthos was surprised to see the young man watching Aramis carefully, worry etched on his face._ _

__MMMM_ _

__Something had been concluded between the two men of God and the King. The Bishop made a small bow to the King who was smiling in response. The Monarch glanced over at the four Musketeers before indicating to the Bishop to walk with him._ _

__‘Do not draw attention to yourselves,’ said Athos under his breath._ _

__An unnecessary statement he knew, but he disliked being put on show. With luck the King merely wanted to talk about them to the visiting Bishop, to show off his elite bodyguard._ _

__‘My Musketeers,’ said the King, ‘are the best soldiers to be found. They are hand-picked from the rank and file.’_ _

__Athos was pleased that his friends had all straightened up for their King. The Bishop, a man in his fifties, his greying hair showing under his skullcap, looked the four of them up and down._ _

__‘I can see they are capable men, your Majesty,’ said the Bishop in a tone that ingratiated himself to the King._ _

__As the Bishop slowly passed the men he paused in front of Aramis, looking at him keenly. Athos could tell the Musketeer found the Bishops stare awkward. He shifted slightly under the man’s gaze._ _

__‘Do I know you, young man?’ he asked._ _

__Aramis was about to reply when the Bishop continued._ _

__‘I noticed you watching me intently. I’ve served in many areas, perhaps you were once one of my flock?’_ _

__The Bishop smiled at Aramis who did not respond for a few seconds._ _

__‘I’m sorry, My Lord, I think I do recognise you, but I really cannot remember where from.’_ _

__It was clear to Athos that Aramis was finding the attention he was getting from the Bishop difficult. With the Cardinal also in such close proximity, Athos guessed that Aramis would rather be anywhere else at that moment._ _

__The Cardinal took a step closer, ‘we must clear up this mystery,’ he said._ _

__Aramis glanced at the Cardinal for a second before looking away. Athos wished the King would intervene as only he could. But the man simply stood and watched the exchange an expression of interest on his face._ _

__‘Where did you grow up?’ asked the Bishop._ _

__Aramis hesitated for a few seconds before responding. It was not lost on Athos that Aramis did not mention the town he actually came from, where his mother had lived. He only told the Bishop the name of the place he had lived with his father. Admitting to a man of the cloth, in front of the King, that he had been brought up in a brothel would probably not go down well._ _

__The reaction of the Bishop caught Athos’ attention. The man took a quick breath, a look of uneasiness spread across his face for a second. Athos was sure none of the other men had noticed the man’s reaction._ _

__‘I was still a lowly priest when I worked there,’ said the Bishop after he had quickly regained his composure. ‘You would have been quite young, it is no wonder you cannot remember me.’_ _

__Athos watched Aramis’ reaction, the man looked embarrassed._ _

__‘I can only apologise for not recognising you.’_ _

__The Bishop smiled, ‘my son, it does not matter.’_ _

__The Bishop rested his hand on Aramis shoulder for a second. Athos was again surprised, this time by his friend's reaction. He doubted the Bishop or Cardinal had noticed, but Aramis flinched. Very slightly, again Athos suspected he was the only one in the room to have spotted it, but Aramis had definitely flinched._ _

__The usually tactile man was struggling with the attention he was receiving. Athos wished the Bishop would move on, leaving his friend alone. After squeezing his shoulder the Bishop smiled for a few seconds before stepping back. Aramis was still looking at the man, a slightly confused expression on his face._ _

__‘Perhaps we should talk later?’ suggested the Bishop._ _

__Aramis nodded slowly. The Bishop smiled again before turning and walking away. Richelieu eyed Aramis for a few seconds before falling into step with the Bishop who had returned to the King._ _

__‘Come,’ said the King, ‘I’ve had the best food laid on for our meal, I shot the ducks myself.’_ _

__The Bishop looked suitably impressed as he walked with the King from the room. He glanced back once at the Musketeers before leaving._ _

__Porthos sighed, ‘how many weeks have we been standing here for,’ he said._ _

__‘It feels like years,’ remarked d’Artagnan as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his back._ _

__Athos turned to Aramis who was staring at the door that the Bishop had gone through._ _

__‘Aramis?’_ _

__‘I really don’t remember him...but I do...I can’t work it out…’_ _

__Aramis looked troubled. Athos wondered if he should mention the reaction the Bishop gave when Aramis told him where he was from?_ _

__‘We are not needed here now,’ said Athos, ‘I think we should leave whilst we can.’_ _

__Aramis nodded, ‘yes, sorry. I’m sure it will come back to me.’_ _

__Athos led them out of the room and away from the Palace. He continued to muse over the odd reactions between the Bishop and Aramis. He wondered if anything further would come of it?_ _

__MMMM_ _

__D’Artagnan was pleased when Aramis intimated that he would rather head straight to his rooms than go to the tavern with Athos and Porthos. He was a bit concerned with his lover's reaction to the incident with the Bishop. Athos had quietly told him to keep an eye on Aramis as they had walked through the streets. It was obvious the man was preoccupied with the meeting._ _

__Athos and Porthos had wandered towards a nearby tavern, as d’Artagnan and Aramis peeled off to walk further along the road towards Aramis’ rooms._ _

__‘Are you alright?’ asked d’Artagnan quietly._ _

__Aramis glanced at him and smiled sadly._ _

__‘I have to admit to finding it difficult to be in the same room as the Cardinal still. He looks at me as though I am the one that got away. And then when Bishop Delacroix started taking an interest in me it all started to get a bit much.’_ _

__D’Artagnan sympathised with his lover. It had taken Aramis a long time to be confident enough to even be near the man responsible for his stay in the Chatelet, let alone spend several hours in a room with him._ _

__‘Can you remember the Bishop yet?’ asked d’Artagnan._ _

__Aramis shook his head, ‘it’s just odd. I think I know him, but I don’t. I should remember him, he would have presided over mass when I was a boy.’_ _

__‘But you’d have been very young then,’ said d’Artagnan._ _

__Despite his sexual inclinations Aramis did still believe in God and attended Church. He had once explained to d’Artagnan that despite the Churches teachings he continued to attend to commune with God, not the men who made up the arbitrary rules. He had told d’Artagnan that he hoped one day the Church would be accepting of everyone regardless of their backgrounds, although he knew that day was a long way off._ _

__MMMM_ _

__Cardinal Richelieu leaned back in his chair, he gazed off into the distance thinking. The events earlier intrigued him. Bishop Delacroix had clearly known Aramis, but his reaction when he realised was interesting. Richelieu wondered if Delacroix remembered something about the boy who would become a Musketeer?_ _

__Had Aramis shown signs of his sinning ways as a child?_ _

__Richelieu still believed he had been correct in his assumption that Aramis was a sodomite. A dirty whore of a soldier. If the other Musketeer had not given himself up so cleverly Aramis would have been put to death._ _

__The embarrassment of the man’s release had caused still irked him._ _

__The Cardinal decided to inquire with Delacroix. He would subtly ask about Aramis. Perhaps he could gather some actual evidence this time. Richelieu smiled to himself, he wanted to finish what he had started with the Musketeer._ _

__MMMM_ _

__D’Artagnan looked at Aramis as they walked through the streets. His lover looked pensive, gazing off into the distance. He had barely spoken since they left the Palace. The incident with the Bishop seemed to have thrown him, left him confused with conflicted feelings._ _

__The Bishop did not appear to have remembered Aramis, which was unsurprising but for Aramis to have forgotten the Bishop was odd. Aramis had not found the meeting pleasant and had wanted to leave as quickly as they could. D’Artagnan had obliged his lover and left the Palace at his side, offering what support he could as they walked through the city._ _

__He had tried to strike up a conversation but Aramis was too preoccupied. D’Artagnan guessed he was trying to remember the Bishop as a Priest._ _

__They reached a quieter street, no one was around, a few people were passing on the street behind them but d’Artagnan could see no harm in putting his arm across his lover's shoulders in a brotherly embrace. He wanted to show Aramis that he was there._ _

__The move was not something that was unnatural between them, but Aramis’ reaction was not what d’Artagnan had expected._ _

__With lightning speed and a violence d'Artagnan would not have expected, Aramis grabbed him and roughly pulled him around. D’Artagnan could not react quick enough to defend himself, he was too shocked. Aramis pushed him to arm's length before drawing back his fisted hand and punching d’Artagnan across the face. The punch left d’Artagnan reeling, he stumbled back unable to put a coherent thought together. He caught his foot on a rough cobblestone and tripped to the floor. As he fell he tried to stop himself but could not prevent himself from crashing into a low wall. He knew as soon as he hit the wall that he had damaged his ribs, the pain flashed through him leaving him breathless and confused._ _

__It took d’Artagnan a few seconds to finally orientate himself, he eased himself onto his side and looked back at Aramis._ _

__Aramis was staring at him, or rather through him. He was breathing hard and fast almost to the point of passing out. D’Artagnan watched, stunned as his lover stumbled back a few paces before he knocked into a couple of crates which had been left outside a doorway. Aramis turned away and using the crates to support himself bent forward and threw up._ _


	2. Chapter 2

Delacroix looked out of the window down at the Palace grounds, he watched a Musketeer taking a slow patrol along one of the gravelled paths. 

It had surprised him when he realised he remembered the Musketeer that had been part of the honour guard earlier in the day. The Musketeer Aramis had grown into a handsome man. Very different from the boy he had known. Delacroix smiled at the memory for a moment before sobering. He would have to be careful around the man the boy had become. Although Aramis said he did not remember him, Delacroix could not really take the risk. 

There was a chance that the man would remember him. Remember what he had done. 

Although, who would believe him? Aramis was only a soldier, and he would not have any proof of what had happened between them. No one would believe a simple soldier over a man of God.

But that kind of rumour was not a good one to have following him around. No, thought Delacroix, he would have to ensure the Musketeer did not have a chance to remember him.

Before he could work out what to do about his problem the door to his room was opened. He turned to face the Cardinal who swept in and gave the Palace servant a glare that apparently told the footman he was to leave them alone. 

Once the door had been quietly closed the Cardinal turned to face Delacroix. The oily man smiled and indicated that Delacroix should sit as he sat himself in a cushioned chair beside the hearth. 

‘I wanted to check that you had settled into your rooms, is there anything that you need?’ 

Delacroix sat in the chair opposite the Cardinal wondering what the man’s real motive for the visit was? 

‘I require nothing, Your Eminence,’ Delacroix replied with a slight nod of his head.

Richelieu was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again.

‘I wonder if you have had time to talk to the Musketeer that you knew?’

Delacroix hesitated. Did the Cardinal know? Had Aramis spoken to him and been believed?

‘No, I have not spoken to him yet,’ said Delacroix warily.

Richelieu leaned forwards slightly, ‘do you remember him as a youth? Do you remember what he was like?’

The Bishop looked at the Cardinal for a few seconds wondering where the line of questions was going.

‘I do recall him,’ replied Delacroix, ‘he was a normal boy.’

The Cardinal leaned back in his chair again, a slight look of disappointment on his face. 

‘What were you expecting to hear, Eminence?’

‘I have heard rumours about the man that is all, I wondered if there were any indications from his childhood.’

‘Indications of what?’ asked Delacroix, intrigued.

Richelieu looked down for a moment before responding, his response shocked Delacroix.

‘The man was accused of sodomy less than a year ago, he did not break under interrogation and events transpired that forced me to have him released.’

‘Sodomy?’

Richelieu nodded. Delacroix thought quickly, he crossed himself and uttered a prayer under his breath. Richelieu appeared to approve of the move.

‘I can assure you that he did not exhibit any such signs as a boy. If it is true he must have been corrupted after I knew him.’

Delacroix hoped he was giving off a suitably shocked countenance for the Cardinal. 

The Cardinal said, ‘of course, you would have dealt with it at the time. No matter, the man was cleared there is little I can do.’

Richelieu rose from the chair waving for Delacroix to remain where he was. He crossed to the door and disappeared from the room leaving the Bishop alone. 

Delacroix let out a sigh. He had been concerned that the Cardinal was there for him. But the news that Aramis had been under suspicion was very interesting to him. He knew that if Aramis tried to speak about him he could conveniently remember something damning at any moment to counter the allegation. 

The more Delacroix thought about the situation the more he wondered if he could still hold a sway over Aramis. Would the man the boy had become still be easily manipulated to his will? Delacroix wondered what he could use Aramis for.

MMMM

D’Artagnan could not work out what had caused Aramis to react in such a way, he had looked shocked. It was almost as if his lover had forgotten he was there, that Aramis had forgotten he had punched him. 

Aramis pushed himself back up to stand straight, he was still breathing hard but appeared to be calming. He looked down for a few seconds before turning back towards d’Artagnan.

D’Artagnan had not moved from where he had ended up on the floor, he was not sure he could without crying out in pain. He was not sure if he had any injuries other than his bruised ribs. At least he hoped they were only bruised. 

‘I...d’Artagnan, I’m sorry...I don’t know why…’

Aramis took a couple of tentative steps forward as if he was unsure if he should approach the man lying on the ground.

D’Artagnan reached his hand up towards his lover to show that he was happy to accept his help to stand.

‘Are you alright?’ asked d’Artagnan as he searched his lovers face for the answer.

‘I should be asking you that…’

Aramis took d’Artagnan’s hand and slowly eased him up to stand. D'Artagnan tried not to react to the pain the movement caused but failed. 

‘Where does it hurt?’

‘My side, I landed awkwardly, my ribs are bruised...I don’t think they’re broken.’

Aramis, his expression remorseful, started to undo d’Artagnan’s doublet. D’Artagnan put his hands over Aramis’ stilling them.

‘Why did you hit me?’

Aramis looked up at him, ‘I...when you put your arm around me...it reminded me…’

‘Of what?’

Aramis looked away for a second, confusion starting to creep into his eyes. He shook his head.

‘I don’t know...I just needed to get you away from me…’

D’Artagnan looked around, they were not being watched, no one had seen the incident, or if they had they were not interfering. Aramis was trying to undo d’Artagnan’s doublet again, his hands were shaking, making the task difficult.

‘Let’s go back to your rooms,’ suggested d’Artagnan as he stopped his lover again.

Aramis looked up again and nodded slowly, he still looked shocked and unfocused. D’Artagnan wanted to get his lover off the streets as soon as he could, he knew the man would not settle whilst he was worried about him and d’Artagnan was unlikely to get to the bottom of what was wrong with his lover whilst they were still in public. 

Walking slowly and with increasing stiffness on d’Artagnan’s part, they made their way towards Aramis’ rooms. D’Artagnan glanced across at Aramis every so often and always found him with the same worried look on his face. 

D’Artagnan wished he knew what it was that had caused Aramis to hit him, and how he could ease the man’s guilt.

MMMM

‘Aramis,’ said d’Artagnan in as calm a voice as he could manage, ‘let me do it. I know you want to help me, but you’re too worked up. Take a moment to calm down.’

‘But you’re hurt...I hurt you…’

D’Artagnan sighed before grabbing Aramis’ hands again, forcing the man to look at him.

‘Yes you hurt me, but I know it wasn’t on purpose, something is bothering you...sort out some water and cloths.’

Aramis looked at him for a few seconds before turning away to do as he was told. D’Artagnan watched his lover move around the room collecting what he would need. He turned his attention to undoing his doublet and easing out of it. Aramis returned to him to pull the jacket off him completely before pulling out a chair for him to sit on. 

Without a word, Aramis went about dealing with d’Artagnan’s injuries. He pulled his lover’s shirt up and gently felt across his chest. D’Artagnan could not contain the hiss of pain as Aramis brushed over the worst of the bruising. Apparently satisfied Aramis lowered d’Artagnan’s shirt.

D’Artagnan watched his lover for a few seconds before speaking. 

‘Do you have any idea what it was that made you react like that?’

Aramis paused as he wrung out the cloth in the water. 

‘I don’t know what it was, it was something bad...obviously...but I can’t remember what it was...it was there for a second and then it was gone.’

Aramis, his brow furrowed, went back to cleaning the graze on d’Artagnan’s cheek. D’Artagnan thought back over the time he had known Aramis. There had been several traumatic experiences that he was aware of. Any one of them could have been the catalyst for Aramis’ reaction. But what bothered d’Artagnan was that it had not happened before. What had changed that day that had affected Aramis?

MMMM

‘The older one, the one you're interested in, he punched the other one.’

‘For what reason?’

‘Dunno, we weren’t close enough to hear.’

‘What happened?’

‘He chucked up, looked a bit shocked and then helped the other one up and they went back to ‘is rooms.’

‘What had happened immediately before Aramis punched his friend?’

‘The young one put his arm around ‘is shoulders...and I think they is more than friends.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘The way they was with each other. The younger one made sure no one was lookin’ and he touched the older one, took ‘is hand, but held onto ‘im for longer than necessary. Makes me sick.’

‘Thank you. You can go, if I have further use for you I will call you. My man will pay you.’

The scruffy, smelly, man made an attempt at a bow before leaving the room in search of his payment.

Delacroix turned back to the window and gazed across the Palace gardens again. The thought of Aramis perhaps really being a sodomite intrigued him. He wondered for a few moments if he was responsible for corrupting the man. He dismissed the idea.

With the news that Aramis might have a young soldier as his lover, Delacroix knew he had something to hold over him. The young soldier would be Aramis’ weakness, the man would want to protect him. And Delacroix knew exactly what he wanted Aramis to do for him.

MMMM

D’Artagnan was struggling to sleep, the bruising to his ribs was painful despite the pain killing draught that Aramis had given him. His still contrite lover had been very quiet for the rest of the evening. D’Artagnan had arranged himself on Aramis’ couch hoping to be joined by his lover, but Aramis had sat in one of the two cushioned chairs by the fire. Other than frequently checking that d’Artagnan was not in too much discomfort the man had kept away.

D’Artagnan had decided to let him be, let him mull over what had happened. It was obvious the man was trying to work out what it was that had caused him to behave in such a way. The violence with which Aramis had struck out had shocked d’Artagnan. He had seen Aramis fighting before, there was violence within him, but it was always controlled. What had happened earlier in the day had been a primal reaction, it had almost been as if Aramis was not himself. The move had been instinctive, there had been no thought behind it. 

In the end, d’Artagnan had suggested they retire to bed, Aramis had helped him up and helped him to undress. When Aramis had lightly run his fingers over the darkening bruises on his side, d’Artagnan had taken his hand and looked him in the eyes for a few seconds. Aramis could not hold his gaze, he muttered a quite ‘sorry’ before continuing to help him ready himself for bed. 

Aramis was lying on his side, his hand resting lightly on d’Artagnan’s chest, d’Artagnan had closed his fingers around Aramis hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth. 

‘It’s alright,’ he eventually said, ‘we’ll work this out.’

Aramis opened his eyes and looked at him. He finally managed a smile.

‘I know, but I still can’t believe I hit you.’

‘Go to sleep, we’ll deal with it in the morning.’

Aramis had looked at him for a few seconds before doing as he was told. D’Artagnan listened as his lovers breathing settled and he relaxed into, what he suspected, were the welcoming arms of sleep. 

He sighed, his lover may have managed to fall asleep, but d’Artagnan knew it was not going to be such an easy task for himself. His ribs may not have been broken but it still hurt for him to take a deep breath.

The relaxed hand he was holding suddenly tensed up and pulled out of d’Artagnan’s light grip. D’Artagnan turned his head to look at Aramis who had twisted to lie on his back. It was clear he was dreaming and the dream was not a good one. D’Artagnan knew from experience that it was not a good idea to wake Aramis when he was dreaming, he just had to let him get through it and either wake himself or settle down again.

Aramis mumbled something incomprehensive and raised his hands above him in what could only be described as a defensive move. If Aramis had been standing the position of his hand indicated to d’Artagnan that he was trying to fend off someone who was taller than him. Aramis was tall, most men were shorter than him. D’Artagnan continued to watch as Aramis continued to act out what was happening in his dream. He pulled his hands towards himself as if he had pulled them from someone’s grasp.

‘No...please...I don’t want to…’

D’Artagnan did not like the sound of fear from his lover as he continued to dream. He had spoken quietly, almost a whisper, d’Artagnan guessed that whatever was happening in the dream was a secret between Aramis and some other person.

‘You’re hurting me,’ said Aramis who began rubbing at his wrist holding his arm close to his chest protectively.

Aramis’ breathing was coming in short, panted sighs. After another few seconds and a couple of mumbled words, his lover settled again, relaxing as he did so. D’Artagnan wondered if Aramis would even remember the dream? He considered waking him but decided against it. The rest would do his worried lover good and d’Artagnan suspected they were in for a tense few days whilst Aramis tried to forgive himself for punching out at him. 

The words that Aramis had spoken seemed to indicate one of the sexual assaults he had endured over the last few years had come to the forefront of his mind. D’Artagnan knew that Aramis had managed to protest at his treatment when he had been attacked. But he could not understand how the simple act of putting his arm around Aramis’ shoulders had caused him to react so violently. 

D’Artagnan could feel the pull of sleep despite the pain he was in. He hoped the incident was a one-off. Although he knew he would still have to deal with Aramis in the morning and they would have to tell Athos and Porthos what had happened. But for the moment Aramis seemed settled.

MMMM

_The Next Day… ___

__Porthos slowed his pace a little, just enough for the two cadets to walk ahead of him and Aramis, enough for them to be out of earshot of a quiet conversation. They were in the Palace grounds so the chances of anyone getting close without them noticing was slim. They were taking a slow circuit of the grounds. There had been no specific threat but the grounds still needed to be patrolled. Antoine and George were still training and, following Treville’s own protocols would only be allowed to partake in proper Musketeer duties if they were with commissioned men. Porthos did not mind, the day was pleasant and patrolling the grounds on a pleasant day was something he enjoyed. He would not admit it to the others but he liked the aroma’s the assorted flowers gave off._ _

__The patrol also gave him a chance to talk to Aramis without interference. The man had been quiet since the previous day and had looked very guilty when d’Artagnan had briefly told him and Athos what had happened. Poor d’Artagnan had been forced to take on light duties within the garrison. The injuries he had suffered had left him stiff and obviously in pain. They had left him about to inventory and clean the weapons in the armoury._ _

__‘Are you going to talk about it?’ asked Porthos without looking at his friend._ _

__There was a pause before Aramis spoke._ _

__‘I feel awful about what I did...I hit him Porthos, I knocked him to the ground and have left him injured and unable to work properly. He’s lucky he didn’t break any ribs.’_ _

__‘Are you any closer to working out why you reacted like that?’ asked Porthos, he had nothing but sympathy for Aramis._ _

__‘No,’ Aramis replied._ _

__Porthos waited for Aramis to continue._ _

__‘He put his arm across my shoulders, it’s something he’s done a thousand times...we’ve all done it to one another at some point. It doesn’t mean anything, it wasn’t even as if it would look...inappropriate.’_ _

__Aramis paused and glanced around._ _

__‘No one can hear you,’ reassured Porthos, knowing how edgy his friend could become when they talked about things that hinted at his sexual preferences._ _

__‘I had a dream last night as well. I don’t remember it, he told me this morning. It seemed I was reliving one of the...assaults...I’ve suffered.’_ _

__Aramis turned to Porthos and looked him in the eyes, Porthos saw confusion and concern._ _

__‘Why have I suddenly been reminded of...that? I’ve not had any issues for weeks now…’_ _

__Porthos thought back to what his friend was alluding to. Aramis had been drugged by an ex-lover who then took advantage of his weakened state to have sex with him. The incident had left Aramis with deep feelings of guilt, despite them all assuring him that he was not at fault in any way._ _

__‘Has something happened recently that could have reminded you of it...unconsciously?’ asked Porthos._ _

__Aramis went back to looking ahead and sighed with a shake of his head._ _

__‘I can’t think of anything.’_ _

__‘Perhaps it was just a one off?’_ _

__‘I hope so,’ said Aramis, ‘I hope so for d’Artagnan sake.’_ _

__Aramis managed a slight smile as he spoke, Porthos could still see the worry in his friend's eyes._ _

__They continued to walk for a few more minutes. Porthos tried to work out what could have happened to Aramis in the preceding days to have triggered the unpleasant memories. There had been nothing out of the ordinary that he could think of._ _

__Antoine and George had realised they had moved a little too far ahead of them and had paused at the top of some steps waiting for them to catch up._ _

__‘Sorry, we must have not been paying attention,’ said George as the two Musketeers caught them up._ _

__Porthos shook his head, ‘don’t worry George, you’ll get used to walking in formation-’_ _

__He paused when he noticed that Antoine was staring at Aramis, he followed the cadets gaze to look at his friend. Aramis had paled considerably and was breathing quickly. He was staring ahead of them. Without warning, Aramis stumbled back a couple of paces. Porthos wondered for a moment if his friend was about to pass out. He grabbed Aramis around the waist, finding him tense._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ex-lover who assaulted Aramis features in 'The Old Flame', 'Getting Even', and 'Blighted Recovery'.
> 
> I'll put the next two chapters up tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

‘What’s the matter with him?’ asked Antoine as he pulled a face which Porthos did not think was one of worry.

Aramis was trying to pull away from Porthos, but he would not let his friend go. He glanced around. Ahead of them was a group of people comprising a few courtiers and Bishop Delacroix with his servant. Porthos did not want to draw attention to themselves. He needed to get Aramis, who was still trying to pull away from him, out of sight of the courtiers.

‘Keep patrolling, don’t make a scene, just walk past them and continue around the grounds. If someone asks where we are, just tell them we noticed that the gateway, the one along that wall looked open and we have gone to secure it, we’ll join you shortly,’ said Porthos, knowing he needed to be firm with the cadets.

Antoine was still looking at Aramis with a very disapproving expression. George, always one to follow orders to the letter, grabbed Antoine’s arm and turned him to continue their patrol. Where Antoine looked almost wary of Aramis, George had nothing but concern in his expression. The two young men continued on their way down the steps and towards the courtiers.

Pothos watched them for a couple of seconds before grabbing Aramis firmly and pulling him off the path and out of sight of anyone. Aramis appeared to be struggling to breathe, Porthos pushed him to his knees before kneeling next to him and undoing a few of the buttons on his doublet.

‘Aramis?’ he said, trying to get his friend to look at him.

Aramis was staring ahead but did not seem to be focused on anything. 

MMMM

Aramis wanted to calm himself down, but he could not. His vision was greying, he did not want to pass out but knew he was in danger of doing so. Porthos had pulled him off the path and forced him to kneel down before twisting him around and leaning him back against him. Porthos wrapped his arms around him and told him to calm down. 

It seemed to take him a long time to calm his breathing, Aramis felt weakened. He had no idea what had caused himself to react as he had. 

When they had caught up with the two cadets Aramis had looked beyond them at the group of people on the lawn ahead. He saw Bishop Delacroix and something had flashed into his mind. An image that shocked him. Before he knew it he was being assaulted by images. More and more flashed into his mind. 

All Aramis wanted to do was get away, run from where he was as fast as he could. If Porthos had not grabbed him he would have run, or collapsed, he was not sure. 

Leaning back on his friend who had enveloped him in a brotherly embrace helped to calm him, he hated that he had put Porthos in such a position. His friend had been forced to act to prevent embarrassment to them all. A soldier should not have a near fainting fit, a Musketeer should not be showing weakness when carrying out his duty to protect his King. 

As he gradually slowed his breathing Aramis was aware of Porthos talking to him calmly, telling him it was alright, that they were safe, no one could see them.

The reassurances were welcome, but Aramis knew that he had more to deal with than a simple moment of lightheadedness. The cause of the attack was more sinister, and he knew he would have to tell Porthos what had caused it.

After a few minutes, he managed to push himself away from Porthos who allowed him to sit on his own but kept a hand at his back, steadying him. 

Porthos waited patiently for Aramis to talk.

MMMM

‘I’m sorry,’ Aramis said eventually. 

Porthos watched as Aramis spent a moment gathering his thoughts. It had taken his friend a while to calm himself down. Porthos was glad he had managed to get them both away from prying eyes. A show of weakness on Aramis’ part would have been questioned.

‘What happened?’

‘I...when I saw the Bishop...I remembered something. Something I...it was images at first...just a picture of him, but him younger, twenty years ago perhaps.’

Porthos wondered what Aramis was about to describe, he did not think it would be pleasant. 

‘I remembered him being my priest.’

Aramis looked down, his face flushed. Porthos continued to wait for his friend to speak again.

‘I remembered us being alone in his office. I think he was giving me religious instruction or it might have been confession...I don’t remember…’

Aramis looked at Porthos. Porthos saw something in Aramis he rarely saw, he saw a horror, a real fear.

‘Porthos, he was...he was making me touch him…’

Aramis’ look of horror turned to one of disgust.

‘I was a child. He was holding my wrist and forcing me to touch his…’

Aramis looked away and shook his head. Porthos worked out what Aramis could not say, he did not know how to respond.

‘Aramis…’

His friend looked back at him, tears in his eyes, ‘he abused me...how could I forget that?’

Porthos moved his hand from Aramis’ back to his shoulder and squeezed, ‘it’s alright.’

‘It’s not alright Porthos, he was…’ Aramis paused his eyes widening, ‘...what if he’s done it to other children?’

Porthos thought for a few moments before replying, he knew Aramis would not like what he was about to say, but his friend would also know that he was right.

‘Even if he has...there’s nothing that we can do about it...you know that…’

Aramis looked away again, they knew that he would not be believed. They lived in unenlightened times. Aramis and d’Artagnan could not be open with their relationship and without very good evidence the abuse that Aramis now remembered would have to go unpunished. 

‘He knew that,’ said Aramis, ‘he knew that I couldn’t talk to anyone. My father would never have believed me anyway. He probably would have beaten me for even suggesting it.’

They sat for a few more seconds before Aramis wiped his eyes and nodded to Porthos who helped him to stand.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said again.

‘Don’t be,’ said Porthos, ‘I think you should head back to the garrison, you can’t be near him. I’ll go find some men to replace us on patrol.’

Aramis nodded once before turning to go. Porthos watched his friend walk back towards the Palace. His visage of the professional soldier restored, the act in place. No one would suspect the Musketeer had just suffered a breakdown as horrific memories had assaulted him. Porthos admired his friend for a moment, before turning to catch up with the cadets.

MMMM

Treville watched as d’Artagnan slowly rose from the bench and walked across the yard towards the armoury. He had seen the Musketeer cleaning guns and gingerly walk across to the armoury twice. Athos had told him that d’Artagnan had strained his back in a fall and was taking a day of light duties to recover. But Treville was unconvinced. There was a bruise across the young man’s cheek that looked more like the result of a punch than a fall. Whilst he had no issue with Athos not telling him the whole truth about d’Artagnan’s injury, Treville was still concerned. He slowly descended the steps and followed d’Artagnan into the armoury. 

From the doorway he watched a clearly distracted d’Artagnan arrange the guns he had cleaned back into their proper place. His movements stiff and calculated.

‘Were you in a fight with someone?’ asked Treville.

D’Artagnan paused what he was doing for a few seconds before he put the last gun down and turned towards him. Treville could tell he was about to be told a lie.

‘I’m your Captain, I can tell when you lie to me…’

D’Artagnan looked away for a few seconds before making eye contact.

‘It wasn’t deliberate. He didn’t mean to do it…’

‘Someone didn’t mean to punch you?’

Treville could tell d’Artagnan was struggling to talk, the young man did not want to tell him what had happened. 

‘Who hit you?’

‘Aramis…’

Treville could not hide his shock. He knew the men had occasionally argued but he had not known them to come to blows before. The idea of Aramis attacking d’Artagnan had never occurred to Treville, he had seen how protective both men were of each other. Treville wondered what had changed in their relationship.

‘That is unacceptable,’ said Treville, ‘I know you two are close but you do not have to protect him if he’s abusing you…’

D’Artagnan shook his head, ‘it’s not like that, he didn’t mean it…’

Treville moved away from the door, closer to d’Artagnan, they were alone so could talk openly. He knew that both his Musketeers were very careful to keep their relationship quiet and did not want to compromise d’Artagnan.

‘Tell me what is going on,’ he said as he pulled out a chair at the table and nodded towards it.

D’Artagnan sank into the chair slowly, a wince of pain crossing his face as he did so. Treville sat next to him and waited for d’Artagnan to talk.

‘He...we were walking back from the Palace yesterday, he was struggling to remember something. I touched him and he hit me,’ said d’Artagnan.

‘What was he trying to remember and why did he hit you? D’Artagnan you can talk to me in confidence you know that. If he has an issue I want to help.’

Slowly d’Artagnan told Treville all that had happened. Treville gradually realised why d’Artagnan had been reticent to talk. What had happened to Aramis could have been seen as a sign of weakness. D’Artagnan had been prepared to put up with the brief assault to protect his lover. Not for the first time Treville wished the two men could be open about their relationship. 

‘He thinks it was just a memory from one of the times he was attacked?’

‘It’s never happened before…’ said d’Artagnan quickly.

Treville managed a small smile, ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you...but it is something we have to keep an eye on. What if something like that had happened at the Palace? And it has happened before...he’s been affected by memories a few times.’

D’Artagnan looked down but nodded slowly. 

‘I may have to change his work…’ said Treville thoughtfully.

D’Artagnan’s head snapped back up, a look of shock and worry on his face. Treville realised what he had implied.

‘No, I’m not talking about stopping him soldiering or taking his commision. I’m just suggesting that we keep him away from the Palace for a while. Perhaps until the Bishop is gone as he seems to have been the catalyst that caused Aramis to react yesterday.’

Treville could not help a smile when he saw d’Artagnan visible relax. 

‘He is not the first soldier to be affected by things from his past. We just need to watch out for him...as we do for each other anyway.’

‘Thank you, Captain,’ said d’Artagnan quietly.

Treville rose from the table and after squeezing d’Artagnan’s shoulder he left the young man to his work. Walking back to his office he contemplated the incident. He knew Aramis would have felt awful for attacking d’Artagnan, he decided to speak to his Musketeer on his return from the Palace and try to ease his conscience. As he had told d’Artagnan, Aramis was not the first soldier to be affected in such a way. Memories haunted most men with a few years of service, it was just unfortunate that Aramis had some particularly unpleasant and nasty memories to haunt his thoughts. 

MMMM

With the weather pleasant, a lot of the courtiers were in the grounds, the Palace was quiet. Aramis found the corridor empty. He looked up and down and saw no one. He did not want to see anyone. What he wanted was to shut himself away in his rooms and perhaps never emerge. But he knew he could not do that. He had been affected by assaults before. The first time he had been raped he had felt the same, wanted to hide from what had happened. He had shut himself away. But he knew that did not help him. He knew he would have to talk. He and d’Artagnan had made a pact when they were attacked they had helped each other. Initially by talking to one another and then in other ways. Aramis managed to smile briefly at the thought.

He would have to seek his lover out. D’Artagnan would not judge him he would simply listen and offer him comfort, which was what he craved.

Without Porthos’ help in the grounds, Aramis was not sure what would have happened. He might have ended up in a worse situation. What if he had been found in that state by a senior courtier or one of the Royal family? He would not have been able to explain himself. 

He would not have been able to admit what the cause of his distress was. The previous suspicion that the Cardinal had used would be held against him. He knew he had to be careful. It pained Aramis that he could not speak out against the Bishop. He wondered again if other children had suffered at his hands?

Aramis realised he had stopped pacing the corridor and was stood still, staring at the wall, one hand resting on a sideboard for support. He pushed himself up to support his own weight and turned.

His breath caught in his throat. The Bishop was standing in front of him. Aramis had not noticed the man approach, he had been too wrapped up in his thoughts. He found his breathing speeding up again. He felt himself break out in a cold sweat. He stared at the man.

The Bishop smiled at him and took a step forward, he put his hand on Aramis’ chest and pushed him backwards. Aramis found himself pinned to the wall by a man several years older than him with nothing more than the pressure of his fingertips. 

Nothing more than fear. 

Aramis was scared of the man in front of him. The fear of the man was keeping him where he had been put. 

He was a soldier he could take out several enemy combatants on his own, he could kill a man, when necessary, with ease. But this man, shorter than him and unfit, had simply pushed him back a couple of paces and was now holding him prisoner with fear.

The fear of something that had happened to him when he was a child. Aramis knew it was ridiculous, knew he could overcome the man with little effort…

But he could not move. He simply stared the Bishop.

‘I see you have remembered our times together, Rene,’ said the Bishop.

Aramis could not remember the last time he had been called by his real name. Not since he had left his home to travel to Paris to become a soldier. The name and its associations with his younger years were not something he liked to remember. His oppressive father had all but driven him away, and now, he realised, there was another reason he resented his childhood. 

‘I do hope your lover was not injured when you struck him yesterday.’

The Bishop smiled cruelly at the reaction he must have seen from Aramis.

‘I was talking to the Cardinal yesterday, it seems you have had a brush with the law. You were lucky...but the Cardinal, he does not believe you are as innocent as you make out. And I know that you are not.’

Aramis continued to stare, he could not speak, he was struggling to keep his breathing steady. The Bishop’s hand began to wander down his chest. Aramis could not look away from the man in front of him. The Bishop was not even restraining him and yet he could not move. The Bishop stopped the movement of his hand over Aramis’ groin, he moved closer. Aramis could feel the man’s breath on his face.

‘I think we both know that you cannot say anything about what I did to you. And now that I know what you are...if you want your lover to remain safe, you are going to do as I ask of you. Do you understand me?’

The Bishop rubbed his hand across Aramis’ groin a couple of times before reaching across and grabbing his wrist. Aramis pulled back slightly but found himself too weak, unable to stop the Bishop from pulling his hand to rub across the Bishops robes. 

‘I’ve missed that, you were one of the best boys you know. I can see now it was because of what you are. A dirty whore. Is your young soldier the only one you fuck? Or do you let him fuck you? Did you corrupt him? You know you will be the cause of his death. He will be arrested, as you were and tortured to name his lovers, but unlike you, he won’t be released, I will ensure he is executed, slowly and painfully...and I will ensure you get to watch.’

The Bishop’s tone had changed to one of disgust despite what he was doing. He had forced Aramis hand across his groin rubbing at the old man’s hard cock. Aramis managed to pull free of the man. The Bishop pushed both his hands into Aramis’ shoulders pushing him back against the wall.

‘There is a document in the Cardinals office, that I want. It was delivered to him three days ago, the crest contains two stags and a lion. Get that letter for me and I will trouble you no more. Your lover will be safe...as safe as he can be with a filthy animal like you.’

The Bishop stood back from Aramis who remained where he was watching him. With a sneer he turned and walked away, his shoes clacking on the polished floor as he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More later today.


	4. Chapter 4

Porthos had entered the corridor from the terrace doorway. He was just in time to see Bishop Delacroix disappear around a corner. As the man went, Porthos’ attention had been drawn to Aramis who was leaning heavily against the wall, his shoulders slumped looking down. After a quick look along the corridor to ensure they were alone, he hurried over to his friend who looked up at him. Aramis was very pale.

‘You alright? Did he speak to you?’

Porthos had to be quick to stop Aramis collapsing when his knees buckled. It took him a moment to steady his friend who he realised was shaking.

‘Let’s get back to the garrison,’ he said decisively. 

As they entered the garrison Porthos looked up to where he knew Treville would be sat, making the most of the natural light whilst he dealt with the paperwork he loathed. Treville looked down at the pair and indicated to Porthos to go to his office. 

Porthos had no problem guiding Aramis up the stairs and into the room. Treville had already pulled out a chair. Porthos pushed Aramis to sit before stepping back, he looked at Treville for a moment.

‘He ain’t gonna want to have to repeat this...I need to get d’Artagnan and Athos,’ Porthos said.

Treville nodded. Porthos guessed that his Captain knew that something was going on, he had probably talked to d’Artagnan. Their perceptive Captain would be able to help with Aramis’ predicament, Porthos was sure.

As Porthos had escorted his friend back to the garrison, Aramis had managed to explain briefly what the Bishop had said to him. Porthos was naturally appalled and had reassured his friend that they would do everything they could to sort out his problem. 

Aramis had lapsed into silence after that, he had not spoken again.

Porthos found Athos talking with a couple of men on the firing range. He was quick to break off his conversation as Porthos approached. 

‘What has happened?’ he asked. 

‘Aramis worked out why he hit d’Artagnan...it ain’t good. He’s in Treville’s office. Do you know where d'Artagnan is?’

‘The mess I believe, Serge was feeding him some of his stew.’

Porthos nodded and turned to go.

‘Is he alright?’ asked Athos the concern evident on his face.

Porthos paused, ‘he will be, it’s just been a shock for him that’s all.’

Athos seemed to accept the reassurance and followed Porthos towards the garrison yard. 

MMMM

‘...he’s threatened to turn d’Artagnan in, get him executed...because of me,’ Aramis voice kept breaking as he stumbled through his account of what had happened. 

Treville did not need his Musketeer to relate exactly what had happened when the Bishop had confronted him. The man’s cowed demeanour told him all he needed to know. Aramis had barely looked up at them and had spent most of the time rubbing his right wrist where Treville suspected the Bishop had touched him. Treville guessed Aramis felt unclean, the memories of what had happened to him as a child had left him feeling dirty. Treville wished he could take the pain away from the troubled man.

As Aramis finished recounting what the Bishop wanted from him Treville had glanced at d’Artagnan who was stood a few feet from Aramis and was itching to get closer to the man he loved. He realised he was being watched and looked across at the Captain who nodded to him and indicated that he could go to Aramis.

The two men were nothing but discreet. They rarely showed any kind of connection when they were at the garrison or working in the city or at the Palace. Although Treville had seen them disappear on occasion together, there was never even a hint of impropriety within sight of anyone else. 

D’Artagnan stepped forward and crouched beside Aramis and rested his hand on the man’s leg. Aramis looked at him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘What for?’ asked d’Artagnan.

Treville answered for Aramis, ‘he thinks it’s his fault that your lives are in danger again.’

‘This is not your fault, Aramis,’ said Athos.

‘This is Bishop Delacroix’s fault,’ said Porthos.

Aramis was about to speak but Treville held up his hand.

‘You cannot be blamed for your reaction earlier,’ said Treville noticing that Aramis looked a little embarrassed to be reminded, ‘you had a horrific incident happen to you when you were a child. You hid it away in your mind, you forgot it, but seeing the man responsible brought it back. Aramis, it happens to lots of people...it happened to me. Not the same thing, but suppressing a memory only for it to return at an unexpected moment. I was on the battlefield when it happened to me.’

Treville realised all four Musketeers were watching him.

‘When I was about eight or nine I watched an execution, a beheading of a local noble. I don’t know what he had done. It was quite the event, lots of people went to see it. My father insisted I go, to learn about life and what happened to wrongdoers...my mother told me to look away at the crucial moment. I didn’t. I was so traumatised by it I didn’t talk for a week. Then I put the memory away, I forgot it. Or at least I thought I had...’

He paused for a moment with a sigh, the image filling his mind.

‘I was in a particularly violent battle, early on in my soldiering days, I saw a man hacked to death by the enemy. Suddenly all I could see was that noble being executed, the execution had been botched, it took three blows to sever the man’s head. He did not die until after the second blow. It was horrific.’

Aramis nodded, ‘when you remembered it, how did it affect you?’

‘I froze, if my Captain had not been nearby to drag me away I would have been killed. Aramis, what happened to you, it was not a sign of weakness. That man had a hold over you then and thinks he does now as well.’

‘I can’t complain about him, he’s threatened d’Artagnan…’

‘We’ll sort this out,’ said Porthos with determination.

‘I agree, Aramis, you are not alone in this. And we will see that d’Artagnan is not in danger,’ Athos said.

‘I’m not leaving again,’ said d’Artagnan, a hint of worry in his voice, ‘don’t make me go.’

Treville smiled, ‘you don’t have to go. Just make sure you don’t give them any ammunition.’

‘You said that Delacroix knew you hit d’Artagnan,’ said Athos, ‘he must have had you followed from the Palace yesterday. We will need to deal with his spies.’

Porthos nodded, ‘that at least is something we can do.’

MMMM

Aramis and d’Artagnan walked out of the garrison together, quite obviously walking into the city. Athos and Porthos, who had removed their pauldrons and some of their weapons followed at a distance. 

The idea was to pick up the spies and deal with them. They had not made any decision on how the spies were going to be dealt with but Athos hoped the men could be discouraged from continuing to work for the Bishop. He guessed the spies were just easily manipulated locals who had been paid well by the Bishop.

Aramis was walking with confidence but Athos knew it was an act. The man had still looked haunted as the meeting with Treville broke up a couple of hours before. 

They had decided that they would create a duplicate of the letter that Aramis was to obtain. D’Artagnan had managed to get George, who was a reasonable artist, to create the crest based on Aramis’ description. The cadet had no idea why he was being asked to do so and had been sworn to secrecy for the task. 

With different aspects of their plan in play, all they could do was hope it would all come together and see Aramis released from under the Bishop’s thumb. Athos hated seeing his friend so bullied. The normally outgoing man had almost withdrawn completely, overcome by awakened memories and new threats to him and d’Artagnan. 

‘I wonder how many other children he’s abused?’ said Porthos as they walked.

‘I hate to imagine. The fact that he knows he still has a hold over Aramis, even now as an adult is what I find particularly distasteful. The man must have worked hard to get Aramis into that state of fear. Just so that he could have his fun.’

Athos shook his head in disgust, Porthos grunted his agreement. 

‘If the Bishop will not drop his attempts to blackmail Aramis, using d’Artagnan, what will we do?’ asked Porthos after a few moments of scanning the people around them.

‘I think we will have to send them both away until the Bishop is gone. It will not be safe for them here. The Cardinal is probably already trying to get information about Aramis from Delacroix. His curiosity was obviously piqued when he found out that the Bishop knew Aramis as a child.’

Porthos sighed, ‘it’s just so unfair,’ he paused looking ahead intently. ‘I think they’ve been spotted. Two men, ragged doublet’s, to their left.’

Athos spotted the unkempt men and changed his direction to intercept them. The men were following Aramis and d’Artagnan along the road. They were keeping to the side and flitting behind crates or market stalls as they progressed, keeping themselves as inconspicuous as possible.

Porthos peeled away from Athos and circled around to get in front of the men. Athos moved up behind them. When they saw Porthos heading towards them they both turned to find themselves facing Athos and his loaded gun.

‘Against the wall gentlemen,’ said Athos in his most acerbic tone. 

The two men looked scared and did as they were told. 

Porthos reached them a couple of seconds later and leaned himself casually against the wall next to the older of the two men who looked him up and down with fear. Porthos grinned at him.

‘We know you are following those two soldiers,’ said Athos indicating Aramis and d’Artagnan.

The two Musketeers had realised what had happened and were stopped several yards away watching the proceedings. Nobody else was paying them any attention. The people of Paris were not interested in a couple of armed men confronting two beggars.

The younger man found his voice, ‘whatcha gonna do to stop us,’ he said with as much conviction as he could muster, which Athos thought, was not much.

‘We don’t wanna hurt you, but if we have to…’ 

Porthos made the implication of his threat clear by fisting his right hand and smacking it into his left palm, the leather of his gloves providing a satisfying slapping sound. The older man visibly jumped.

The younger man looked back at Porthos who stepped forward.

‘If you would rather I keep my friend from getting any closer I suggest you do as we ask.’

Both men glanced at Porthos who was obviously enjoying his part as the menacing man.

‘We want you to cease reporting to the Bishop about that soldier,’ said Athos as he reached for his money bag. ‘We want you to tuck yourselves away in a tavern for a few days and not be seen. I have men across the city who know what you look like and will be watching out for you. If you are seen you will be brought to me...and him.’

Athos nodded towards Porthos who was still grinning at the men.

Both men looked at Porthos for a few seconds before nodding. Athos dropped the money bag into the younger man’s hand, the man’s eyes widened slightly when he felt the weight of the bag.

‘Off you go, and remember we do not want to see you.’

The two men made off quickly, disappearing into the crowd. 

‘I enjoyed that,’ said Porthos as he watched them go.

‘I could tell,’ remarked Athos.

MMMM

_The next day… ___

__Aramis stood in the room waiting for Bishop Delacroix. He was struggling not to react to being in such close quarters to the man who he now knew had abused him. It still amazed him that he had managed to push the memory away, banish it._ _

__After they had dealt with the spies the second part of their plan was put into action. Aramis could play no part in it and had been forced to stay away. Fortunately, d’Artagnan was still in no shape to do much and had accompanied him, first to the tavern where his lover had insisted he eat and then to his rooms where his lover had insisted he sleep._ _

__It had taken Aramis a long time to fall asleep but d’Artagnan’s proximity had helped. Knowing his lover, his best friends, and his Captain all believed him and were working to help had been a comfort. He could not ask for a better group of people. They had reminded him that he frequently went out of his way for them so they were only repaying the favour._ _

__D’Artagnan was still suffering from the incident two days before and despite trying to hide the pain he was in Aramis still felt guilty._ _

__The second part of the plan had gone without a hitch, it had gone better than they had expected and now Aramis was ready to deal with Delacroix. Although he was worried he would freeze up again. The horrific events of his childhood kept flashing up in his mind. It had been reassuring to him when Treville had opened up about his own hidden demon, although not on the same scale it proved to Aramis that his reaction to the memories resurfacing was not unusual. If their Captain could be affected in such a way Aramis knew he had nothing to be ashamed of. Although he still regretted striking d’Artagnan._ _

__George had surpassed himself with his artwork on the faked document. It only had to pass a brief inspection but the cadet's talent was one they would remember for the future. Aramis looked around the room as he waited. Just being somewhere he knew Delacroix had been sent shivers down his spine._ _

__The images of what the man had done were clearer to him now. He remembered the Bishop, then a Priest, grabbing him firmly by the wrist on several occasions. Aramis had known, even at that age, that what the man was doing was wrong. But he had been threatened. The Priest had known he was a bastard and that his father would beat him for barely any reason. Delacroix had told him he would say that he had stolen from him, or lied or something else. It did not matter, Aramis was forced to do as the Priest wanted._ _

__The door opened. Aramis straightened up, he did not want to show fear, despite feeling scared. The Bishop walked in, he was alone._ _

__‘I see you have accepted that you have no choice,’ Delacroix said with a slight smirk._ _

__Aramis did not respond, he did not know what to say to the man._ _

__‘You have the document, good boy. I think we can work together again. There are another couple of items I would like from the Cardinal. You see, he has his suspicions about you, but I believe he also has suspicions about me...and we cannot have that now, can we?’_ _

__As he spoke the Bishop had approached Aramis until he was standing in front of him, looking up at him. Aramis did not move, he could feel the freezing fear creeping into him. He wanted to tell the man exactly what he thought of him, he wanted to hit the man, he wanted to kill him._ _

__The Bishop looked at him for a few more seconds._ _

__‘I wonder, would you still do the things you did then? You were very good. Does your young soldier enjoy it when you touch his cock? I’m guessing you still do that? It felt so good...although you were only small then, your little hands on my hard cock…’_ _

__The Bishop reached out for Aramis’ hand, Aramis did not resist him. He wanted to but could not, he knew the ordeal would not last long and that all he had to do was step away but he could not. He breathing was getting faster again. The Bishop was stroking Aramis’ hand slowly._ _

__‘Of course, your hands are not smooth anymore, these calluses...from the sword fighting I image? They probably make the experience quite different. Does he reach his peak quickly? Do you please him in other ways as well?’_ _

__The Bishop licked his lips. Aramis went to pull his hand away but the Bishop held his wrist tighter, the man strong despite his age._ _

__‘Perhaps you could give me a practical demonstration of your talents now?’_ _

__Aramis pulled away with more force and freed himself from the Bishops grasp. Delacroix looked a little shocked at Aramis’ apparent defiance. Without warning, he slapped Aramis hard across the cheek._ _

__When the Bishop spoke again his voice was filled with venom._ _

__‘Would you like me to go to Richelieu? I can tell him I have now remembered what you were like as a child? I can tell him that you were a devil then and that you must still be now. A dirty sinning whore-’_ _

__‘You can try,’ said d’Artagnan from the other side of the room._ _


	5. Chapter 5

If Porthos had not lain a restraining hand on his arm, d’Artagnan was sure he would have stepped out earlier. They had been forced to listen to the abhorrent man humiliate Aramis. The implications of what he had forced Aramis to do as a child had made d’Artagnan want to throttle the man. He knew Porthos felt the same, the look on the Musketeers face was one of barely held back rage. 

When Porthos had released him and he had stepped out from behind the screen they had all secreted themselves behind Aramis had looked relieved that his ordeal alone with the man in front of him was over.

Delacroix had looked shocked. He stood staring at the four of them open-mouthed for a few seconds. 

‘Before you gather your wits back into one place,’ said Treville who was himself seething with anger, ‘I want you to know that we,’ he pointed at Athos, Porthos and himself, ‘are prepared to speak to Richelieu about you and your disgusting activities.’

Delacroix huffed, ‘you are prepared to send these two to their deaths? You know I will just implicate them-’

‘No you will not,’ continued Treville, ‘they will leave Paris, never to return, they may become wanted men, but they are prepared to make that sacrifice if it stops you from continuing with your sick, twisted ways.’

Delacroix looked at Aramis and then across to d’Artagnan who nodded his agreement with Treville’s statement. Although both men hoped it would not come to it they had both said they would give up their current lives to stop Delacroix if it was necessary. They had both packed their saddlebags in case the plan did not go as they hoped. 

‘But we don’t think it will come to that,’ said d’Artagnan as he held up their trump card.

The gold embossed book drew Delacroix’s attention. He took a step forward when he saw it, his eyes wide.

‘How did you get that?’

‘Bit stupid, writing down your activities,’ scoffed Porthos, ‘keeping a log of all the boys you’ve abused over the years.’

D’Artagnan saw Aramis look down, not wishing to look at any of them as the final part of their plan was put into play. D’Artagnan had suggested that they did not need to do what he was about to do, but Aramis had told him it was alright. D’Artagnan opened the book at a page near the beginning and read out loud.

_‘Little Rene continues to improve. He did not even need to be told to kneel in front of me today. His fingers barely shake any more as they undo the buttons on my cassock. I would still like him to look up at me as he tends to my needs, but we can work on that…’ ___

__D’Artagnan looked up at the Bishop again. The man had turned a deep red, almost purple in colour. He knew the evidence they had against him was damning. D’Artagnan saw him look over at the bureau. He could almost see the man’s mind working, wondering how the book had been found when it had been so well hidden._ _

__MMMM_ _

___Earlier… ____ _

____Constance pulled at the bodice, it was quite uncomfortable. She sympathised with the maids, they were forced to wear the uncomfortable garment day in and day out. At least she would only need to wear it for a couple of hours. Long enough to search Bishop Delacroix’s rooms without drawing attention to herself._ _ _ _

____She had not hesitated to help her friend when d’Artagnan had visited her. After the initial shock of the bruising to her lovers face had been quelled by the young man, she had sat and listened as he explained what had happened. She knew Aramis must have been devastated to have hit out at d’Artagnan, and she was appalled when she realised before d’Artagnan had finished his explanation, what had happened to him to cause such a reaction._ _ _ _

____She had offered to help in whatever way she could before d’Artagnan had asked. She loved Aramis, not in the same way that she loved d’Artagnan, but the two were very close. Constance hated to imagine what the man was going through._ _ _ _

____It had not been difficult to borrow one of the maid's uniforms. She realised very quickly that she was practically invisible as she walked along the Palace corridor. She was carrying a basket of clean linen towards the Bishop’s room. No one paid the slightest attention to the maid going about her work._ _ _ _

____Using the key that Porthos had acquired, she let herself into the room. Abandoning the linen she quickly set about systematically searching the room._ _ _ _

____The bureau was the first place she looked. Porthos had talked her through the possible hiding places within the piece of furniture. What they hoped to find was some paperwork that they could use against the Bishop. They knew it would only bring them to the point where neither side could win, but that was better than leaving Aramis open to further blackmail._ _ _ _

____Carefully leafing through the papers she found nothing sprang out to her as possible ammunition against the evil man. As she was about to close the drawer she did as Porthos had told her and knocked the base. It sounded hollow. After checking over her shoulder for any sign of someone coming into the room, she pulled the false bottom out. A gold embossed, leather-bound book lay in the hidden part of the drawer. She pulled it out and flipped through a few pages._ _ _ _

____Shocked at what she read she knew she had found exactly what they needed. She turned to the date she knew would be the most relevant and read a couple of lines before snapping the book shut, unwilling to read any further._ _ _ _

____She replaced the false bottom and put the other papers back before shutting the drawer. She slipped the book between the linen in her basket and picked it up to leave._ _ _ _

____As the door was pushed open from the other side she froze. The Bishop stood in the doorway._ _ _ _

____‘Did I startle you, my dear?’ he said with a salacious smile._ _ _ _

____Constance felt sick, but kept up her act, she made a small curtsey, ‘sorry, monsieur, I was just leaving.’_ _ _ _

____She picked up the basket and walked towards the door. The Bishop held it open for her, he continued to leer at her not taking his eyes off her chest. The man made her feel quite uncomfortable. She could not help a small cry of shock when he grabbed at her skirts and touched the small of her back, allowing his hand to slip down further, cupping her buttocks._ _ _ _

____Constance glared at him for a moment, before returning to her character and affecting a shocked look before hurrying off. Away from the despicable man._ _ _ _

____MMMM_ _ _ _

_____Now… ____ _ _ _

______It had taken the Bishop a few seconds to absorb the idea that he would not be able to use Aramis to do what he wanted. The man had glared at d’Artagnan for a few seconds before looking back at Aramis. He had taken a predatory step forward, but Aramis had regained his composure and stood his ground glaring back at the man._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I was due to leave tomorrow, but I can bring my plans forward,’ he said slowly as his glare changed to a scowl which took them all in._ _ _ _ _ _

______Treville nodded before walking to the door, he opened it wide. Athos, Porthos and d’Artagnan left the room. Aramis paused on his way to the door and turned back to Delacroix._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘We are at a stalemate, Monsieur,’ he said, ‘but, know this, if I hear even the slightest rumour that you are mistreating any more children, I will see to it that you are brought to justice regardless of the consequences to myself.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Without waiting for a response he walked from the room. Treville followed him, closing the door behind him._ _ _ _ _ _

______MMMM_ _ _ _ _ _

______Treville turned to his men, Aramis had walked a few paces away without turning back. D’Artagnan had walked up to him and was talking quietly._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I’ll see you all at muster tomorrow,’ said Treville, before saying quietly, ‘keep an eye on him for a few hours, don’t let him lose himself again.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Porthos nodded, he knew what his Captain meant, Aramis had a tendency to bottle up problems and let them fester within him._ _ _ _ _ _

______As Treville walked away Porthos approached Aramis from behind, he was about to sling his arm across the man’s shoulders but stopped himself. Aramis turned to look at him, Porthos was pleased to see a spark of amusement in his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Surely you don’t think I would be able to knock you to the ground as easily as I put him on the floor do you?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Porthos laughed, ‘from the look on his face,’ he replied looking at d’Artagnan, ‘he wouldn’t mind if you had another go.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______D’Artagnan was looking at Aramis with an expression somewhere between amusement and annoyance._ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis turned to them all and said with sincerity, ‘I want to thank you all, for what you did.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘We know,’ said Athos, ‘you can buy us some of that delicious stew Marcel’s wife makes at your local tavern.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis managed a genuine smile, the first Porthos had seen for a few days. He knew the man was still troubled by what had happened, but the fact that he was accepting of their company was a good start to getting him back on track._ _ _ _ _ _

______The walk across the city was uneventful, they found the tavern keeper talking to Constance who was already enjoying a cup of wine, sat at a table in the corner of the tavern. Marcel greeted them warmly before pottering off to sort them out with food and wine._ _ _ _ _ _

______After Constance had embraced d’Artagnan she turned to Aramis._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Before you start, it was not a problem, I’ve been groped by more men then you have.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘And that’s probably saying something,’ chuckled Porthos, earning himself a glare from Aramis._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘If I wasn’t playing the part of a meek and mild chambermaid I’d have thumped him.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis took her hands in his, ‘I wish, all those years ago I’d had your bravery.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Constance realised what she had said, ‘you know I didn’t mean it like that.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______She pulled Aramis down to sit on the bench seat next to her, leaving her arm around him. Porthos watched them talking for a few seconds before he turned to d’Artagnan._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘You’ve certainly picked yourself an interesting pair of lovers, both of them are willing to risk everything for the other.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______D’Artagnan nodded, ‘I know, I’m lucky.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I would not want to be on the wrong side of either of ‘em,’ concluded Porthos with a grin._ _ _ _ _ _

______MMMM_ _ _ _ _ _

______They had stayed at the tavern for a few hours. Aramis had managed to join in their conversations and had flirted unashamedly with Marcel’s wife. But d’Artagnan could see that Aramis did not have his whole heart in the conversations and wanted to get away. As the night drew to a close d’Artagnan had led Aramis up to his rooms. His lover had lapsed into silence._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I’m not expecting us to do anything,’ d’Artagnan said glancing back at Aramis, ‘I just don’t want to leave you on your own tonight.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis managed a smile, ‘thank you,’ he said as he began to shrug out of his doublet._ _ _ _ _ _

______D’Artagnan watched Aramis slowly undress, when his lover realised he was being watched he paused and looked across._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘If you need a bit of time. I will wait. I will not put any pressure on you. I can stay at the garrison if you would rather be alone, but please don’t dwell on it. I know you probably need to work it through in your head, and I have no problem waiting for you…’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis finished undressing before climbing over his small bed and grabbing d’Artagnan in a firm embrace and kissing him fully and deeply. When he pushed the younger man away he held him at arm’s length, looking at him intently. D’Artagnan could not hide his surprise at the move. He had expected Aramis to be quiet and insular after the incident._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘We did a good thing today,’ Aramis said, ‘we stopped a bastard of a man from carrying on as he had been. I doubt he’ll abuse any more boys now. He won’t know who else we’ve told, who else might be watching him.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis released d’Artagnan and slipped under the blankets waiting for him. D’Artagnan quickly stripped off and joined his lover. Aramis pulled him close, kissing him again._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Thank you,’ he said quietly._ _ _ _ _ _

______MMMM_ _ _ _ _ _

______D’Artagnan had hoped, but not really expected, the incident to be over as they settled to sleep that night. He was not sure how long they had been asleep before Aramis had his first dream._ _ _ _ _ _

______D'Artagnan had recovered enough from his assault to be able to slip out of his lover's arms as Aramis began to push him away. It appeared to be a dream of a similar nature to the one he had suffered two nights previously._ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis was trying to push someone taller than him away. Now that they knew what had happened the actions made sense to d’Artagnan. Aramis was trying to stop the Bishop from grabbing his wrist._ _ _ _ _ _

______All d’Artagnan could do was watch and wait for the dream to be over. Aramis mumbled incoherently for a while and continued to push away at the unseen foe before he became still for a few seconds._ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis opened his eyes, blinked a few times and stared at the ceiling._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I don’t think I’m going to sleep well…’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I’m here,’ said d’Artagnan reaching out to his lover._ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis took d’Artagnan’s hand and clutched it firmly, ‘I know.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘It was all an act, earlier,’ said d’Artagnan, ‘making out you were alright.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis sighed, ‘I was terrified in there. When he grabbed my hand I froze again. Now that I remember it all that was all I could think about...Being in his room...watching him coming towards me...’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis trailed off for a few seconds._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I could even smell the room. The incense. I think it must have clung to his robes, it seemed to follow him around.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I’ll stay here as much as I can,’ said d’Artagnan decisively. ‘And when I cannot stay I’m sure Porthos will. He’s already said he thinks your couch is more comfortable than his own bed. You’re not alone.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Aramis finally turned his head to look at him, ‘thank you,’ he said._ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course it's not going to be quite that easy...


	6. Chapter 6

‘Seriously Porthos, I’m fine now,’ said Aramis a few days later, ‘I’ve not had a dream in, what, three nights now.’

Porthos nodded, ‘I have managed to make good use of your couch, you've not disturbed me. If you’re sure, you know I don’t mind staying another couple of nights.’

Aramis nodded with a smile, although he was still haunted by what had happened and had suffered a few nights of disrupted sleep he seemed to be over the worst of it. The images were still plaguing him, but he was learning to live with them. He had sat and talked with d’Artagnan who, as always, listened patiently and offered words of reassurance when they were needed. 

When d’Artagnan was not there, Porthos had turned up, ready to beat him at cards and watch him if he suffered during the night.

When Aramis had suggested that he did not need watching all the time Porthos had protested, pointing out that when he had suffered a fever a few weeks before Aramis had not left his side. Aramis had acquiesced and allowed his friend to watch him for another couple of nights. 

‘And anyway Bonacieux is back the day after tomorrow so d’Artagnan won’t be able to stay with Constance.’

Porthos smirked, ‘what’s it like being the second choice?’

Aramis slapped his arm in mock annoyance. 

They walked on in companionable silence for a few minutes watching Antoine, who was a few yards ahead of them. The young cadet was picking his way through the market but stopped to look along a side road. The two Musketeer caught him up.

‘Should we intervene?’ asked Antoine glancing back at them both. 

A few yards along the road an argument was taking place. Two men, who looked like rival stall holders were standing up to each other, words being spat back and forth between them. It was obvious the verbal abuse was going to turn physical at any second. 

Aramis looked at Porthos with a smile and indicated for him take the lead. Porthos grinned.

‘I think it’s time we let young Antoine practice his diplomacy,’ he said before giving the cadet a shove towards the brewing fight.

‘I’ll act as back up in case you can’t handle it,’ said Aramis as he stepped back a few paces and leaned against the opposite wall with his arms folded, ready to enjoy the show.

Porthos rolled his eyes and turned to follow Antoine who was already making his way towards the stall holders. They were soon embroiled in some peacekeeping with the rowing men.

Aramis swept his gaze over the other people present. Most were starting to take an interest in the loud argument, but none appeared to want to join in. Aramis was ready to dissuade any further participants if necessary.

‘Please monsieur…’

Aramis glanced around to see a small hunched figure wearing a ragged cloak stood a few yards into the alleyway next to where he was standing. The man, who Aramis suspected was elderly had his hood up leaving his face shrouded in shadow. The man was reaching forward with his hand.

Aramis smiled accommodatingly at the man and stepped forward, reaching for his money bag as he did so. 

As he reached forwards to drop a few coins into the outstretched hand of the beggar something caused Aramis to hesitate. 

The smell of incense. 

His pause must have alerted the man in front of him that he had been discovered for who he was. 

Bishop Delacroix pulled his left hand away as he thrust forward with his right, a dagger clutched tightly in his fist. Aramis managed to jump out of the way, grabbing at Delacroix’s hand at the same time on instinct. 

Aramis’ grab was poorly placed, the edge of his palm caught on the blade and not the Bishop’s hand. Despite feeling the sharp edge bite into his flesh Aramis persevered. He pushed the man back. Delacroix stumbled back grabbing at Aramis as he did so, pulling him further into the alleyway.

Delacroix tried to stab Aramis a second time, but this time Aramis got a grip on his wrist. Unfortunately, the cut to his palm was bleeding freely causing his hand to slip. The Bishop, with a determined strength, shoved Aramis hard. The Musketeer stumbled back a couple of paces, hitting the wall behind him. 

For a third time, Delacroix tried to push his dagger into Aramis. The Musketeer pushed back at the Bishop. Delacroix staggered back, catching his foot in the long cloak he was wearing and crashed to the ground.

Pushing himself off the wall Aramis stepped forward, ready to stop the man from attacking him again. But the Bishop did not move.

Aramis stared down at the man.

A growing pool of blood emerged from under the Bishops head. Aramis realised as he fell the man had hit his head on the edge of a doorstep. 

The Bishop was dead.

Aramis could do nothing but stare at the man. The man who had, all those years before abused him. The man who had threatened him mere days before. The man who had threatened d’Artagnan mere days before. 

Aramis had not meant to kill the man, he had not killed him, it was an accident. He could not have predicted Delacroix would have fallen in exactly the manner that he had. 

Now that he was dead Aramis was not sure what to think. Was it actually a good thing the man was dead? It certainly meant that he and his lover were out of danger. There would be no more young boys who could fall prey to the twisted man of God. The threat the Bishop posed was gone. 

Was it a good thing?

The images of what the man that lay dead at his feet had done to him filled his mind along with the terror he now remembered from his childhood. The man had even terrified him two days before. Aramis was not ashamed to admit he had been terrified. Frozen with fear. 

Now the man was dead. Aramis felt vindicated. 

It was a good thing. 

MMMM

‘Aramis?’ said Porthos as he walked up beside the stunned man. 

His friend was staring at the body of Bishop Delacroix, who was lying sprawled across the dirty cobbles. As the argument between the stall holders had been resolved Porthos had wandered back to the main road, leaving Antoine to ensure the two men went their separate ways. 

Porthos had seen the struggle in the opposite alleyway. All eyes were on the warring stallholders, no one had seen Aramis’ plight. Porthos recognised Delacroix as the hood fell from his head. He had seen the blade being employed against his friend and he saw Aramis act instinctively to push the threat away from him.

Now Aramis was staring at the body of the man who had abused him as a child, the man who had been trying to blackmail him as an adult. 

‘I saw what happened, this was not your fault. He attacked you, took you by surprise…’

Aramis looked at him, the shock evident in his eyes, ‘I know,’ he said.

‘Good,’ said Porthos.

He reached out and took Aramis’ hand in his, looking at the injury.

‘That’s gonna need a couple of stitches...that’s gonna hurt.’

Aramis looked at the deep cut to the side of his palm, which was oozing blood. Porthos pulled off his bandana and wrapped it firmly around his friend's hand.

‘What’s happened?’ asked Antoine from behind them both.

Porthos saw the disapproving look on the cadets face again.

‘Aramis was attacked,’ said Porthos.

‘By an old man…’

‘Antoine, he was taken by surprise, even we can get taken by surprise sometimes,’ said Porthos, not bothering to hide his annoyance at the remark from the young man. 

‘I pushed him back, he slipped over...it was an accident,’ said Aramis who obviously felt the need to defend himself.

Antoine did not look convinced, he looked between the two men and glanced at Porthos who still had hold of Aramis’ hand as he tied the makeshift bandage over the wound.

Porthos chose to ignore the cadet and concentrate on his still shocked friend. 

‘Head back to your rooms. Are you happy with me stitching it?’ he paused, Aramis nodded. ‘I’ll sort this out and come and see you shortly.’

Porthos looked down at the body of the Bishop for a second as he wondered momentarily what he would do with the body. He was sure Antoine had not recognised the man as Delacroix so he could probably just have the body removed and say it was an unfortunate desperate beggar who had fallen after attacking Aramis. There was clearly no fault on Aramis’ part. 

Aramis took a deep breath and after a final look at Delacroix he nodded and turned away, holding his injured hand across himself he made his way along the road and out of sight. Porthos watched him go wondering if, now that Delacroix was dead, his friend would really be able to put the whole sordid affair behind him. 

MMMM

D’Artagnan climbed the stairs, two at a time. He pushed the door open, wondering what he would find. 

Porthos had caught up to him as he patrolled one of the larger markets. After briefly telling him what had happened to Aramis, Porthos had offered to take his place on patrol. They both knew that he was better at stitches than Porthos was, Aramis would probably appreciate the more dextrous d’Artagnan to deal with his injury.

Aramis was sat at the small table in his living room, a bowl of water and some bloodstained cloths lay scattered across its surface. A threaded needle was ready with a couple of clean bandages, neatly piled on one side. 

The injured man looked up and smiled as d’Artagnan closed and locked the door. 

‘I wondered if you might come instead,’ said Aramis quietly. 

‘I’m not sure what to make of it,’ said d’Artagnan as he pulled out a chair and sat next to his lover, ‘he said he was going to leave...why attack you?’

Aramis shook his head, ‘I don’t know, perhaps he did not like the fact that we...that I...played him at his own game.’

‘Are you alright?’ asked d’Artagnan. ‘Other than that of course...which looks painful.’

Aramis managed another genuine smile.

‘Oddly yes. I was, obviously very shocked and felt bad initially for causing his death...but he got what he deserved and now we know for sure he won’t abuse anyone else.’

D’Artagnan observed his lover for a few seconds trying to work out if he was really alright or if Aramis was trying to placate him. 

Aramis rolled his eyes, ‘I am really alright,’ he said. ‘I’m not expecting the images and dreams to just disappear. But I know I’m going to be fine. More so now.’

D’Artagnan could tell his lover meant what he said. Although he knew Aramis was also right in that the incident was not going to simply disappear. It seemed that Aramis was determined not to let the incident overwhelm him. D’Artagnan trusted his lover to be true to his word. They had already talked at length and d’Artagnan would be sure to keep a careful eye on him to make sure he did not start to get depressed about what had happened.

Satisfied, d’Artagnan nodded before leaning forward to inspect the wound to his lovers hand properly. Aramis twisted his hand to make it easier for him.

‘I think three stitches will do...and I apologise now in case I swear at you,’ said Aramis.

D’Artagnan looked back up at him in time to catch his lover grinning. Despite all that had gone on, the humiliation and hurt that Aramis had experienced he still managed to put him at his ease with a simple smile.

As he picked up the needle d’Artagnan noticed a slight look of apprehension on his lovers face.

‘Swear as much as you need to,’ d’Artagnan said. ‘Although do it quietly, we don’t want to worry your landlady.’

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> This is the original prompt from GingietheSnap:  
> "a bishop from Aramis' past arrives to visit Richelieu. He threatens to expose Aramis and, more importantly, d'Artagnan if Aramis does not meet his demands. (History of child abuse)"
> 
> I have the next part coming along well. The plot is almost ironed out. It will follow on directly from this story but will be a different subject matter. And Aramis will get (another) good whumping. There will also be some more action.

**Author's Note:**

> Aramis was arrested and interrogated in ‘Breaking Point’.


End file.
